dangerously or set up an incessant rattle
with their chains.

Carroll glanced at his watch. It showed nine o'clock. He started with
surprise. Then he reached for the newspapers on the table at the side of
his bed, and spread open the front pages.

They had evidently been made up anew with the breaking of the Warren
murder story. Eight-column streamers shrieked at him from both front
pages. He read the stories through, and smiled with satisfaction. Just as
he had anticipated, both reporters, hungry for some definite clue upon
which to work, had seized upon the possibility of Hazel Gresham being the
mysterious woman in the taxicab. Not that they said so openly, but they
said enough to make the public know that the detectives in charge of the
case were likely to investigate her movements on the previous night.

Carroll stepped into a shower, then dressed quickly and ate a light
breakfast served him by his maid, Freda. Before he finished, the doorbell
rang, and Freda announced that there was a lady to see him.

"A lady?"

Freda shrugged.

"She ain't bane nothin' but a girl, sir, Mr. Carroll--just a
little girl."

"Show her in."

In two minutes Freda returned, and behind her came the visitor. Carroll
concealed a smile at sight of her. She was a little thing--sixteen or
seventeen years old, he judged--a fluffy, blond girl quivering with
vivacity; the type of girl who is desperately reaching for maturity,
entirely forgetful of the charms of her adolescence. He rose and bowed in
a serious, courtly manner.

"You wish to see me?"

"Yes, sir, I _do_. Is _this_ Mr. Carroll--the famous detective?"

"I am David Carroll--yes."

She inspected him with frank approval.

"Why, you don't look any more than a boy! I thought you were old and had
whiskers--and--and--everything horrid."

"I'm glad you're pleasantly surprised. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, it isn't what you can do for me--it's what I can do for you!"

"And that is?"

"I came to tell you all about this terrible Warren murder case."

"_You_ came to tell _me_ about it?"

"Why, yes," she retorted smilingly. "You see, I know just _heaps_ about
the whole thing!"

CHAPTER V

MISS EVELYN ROGERS

Carroll was more than amused; he was keenly interested. He motioned
his visitor to a chair and seated himself opposite, regarding her
quizzically.

She was not exactly the type of person he had anticipated encountering in
a murder investigation. From the